


Saving Warlock

by SailorYue



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crowley loves Warlock, Gen, Hastur has a temper, Soft Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorYue/pseuds/SailorYue
Summary: Crowley has a bad feeling and decides to stick close to Warlock as he goes to Meggido. Crowley would do anything to protect the child he raised, even rescue him from the clutches of a Duke of hell
Relationships: Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79
Collections: Lost And Found Family





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a dream I had. I absolutely had to wrote it

Crowley had a bad feeling. It had been bothering him since he sensed the real anti-christ naming his hellhound, and had been feeling it grow more and more each passing moment that brought Armageddon closer. Aziraphale may have said that he hadn't found the boy, but the angel was a rubbish liar. It hurt he didn't trust him after everything they'd been through, but he trusted him. Aziraphale must've had a plan. That meant he could take care of something more pressing. Hastur was going to meet with who he thought was the anti-Christ soon, and when he learned that Warlock Dowling had no powers and was not the notorious son of Satan... well, the demon was known to have a temper. He couldn't help but feel responsible, and considering he raised that child for over half his life, he couldn't on good conscience(not that he had one) let anything happen to him.

Which is how he found himself leading the motorcade of one Thaddeus Dowling the 3rd, as they drove to the sacred place in Israel. Mr. and Mrs. Dowling and their son Warlock sat in the back of the limousine he was driving, heading towards a predestined point in the middle of Israel. It may have been written that Armageddon was to begin here, but.... it wasn't. He stole a glance in the rearview mirror at the boy heaven and hell thought was the son of Satan, watching as the boy played the handheld game he had brought, complaining about always being dragged on his dad's boring business trips. Crowley couldn't help but think back at watching this boy grow up, and having a wild imagination. Oh the games they played together. There was never a dull moment raising him. He hid his smile. Now was not the time for reminiscing.

The motorcade pulled to a stop at the site, and Crowley's heart nearly stopped at the sight of Hastur. Yes, he knew the demon was going to be there, hell, he had sensed the demon's power spike three separate times. (Probably dispatching a legion demon who should have been there as well.) He slouched lower in his seat, suppressing his power as much as possible.

Crowley watched, listened closely, as Hastur ignored the adult Dowlings, as he demanded to know where the hellhound was. He chuckled to himself as Warlock brightly told Hastur he smelled like poo. He had a point, the duke of hell knew absolutely nothing about personal hygiene. He couldn't help but feel a bit proud, having taught the boy to always speak his mind and never sugarcoat his opinions. (Something Aziraphale had counter taught to be kind with his words).

Suddenly there was a spike in power, Hastur started to lash out at whatever was nearby, and that was his cue. Crowley rushed over and grabbed Warlock right as Hastur moved to grab Mrs. Dowling, who had started screaming when the dark demon had started his tantrum. She was right to panic, but screaming right now when a killer had a tight grip around her throat, was not the best idea.

"Crowley. I knew you were behind this." Hastur growled, his grip tightening on the woman's throat silencing her screams.

"Mom!!" Warlock cried out, struggling in Crowley's arms. He reached towards his mother; Crowley tightened his grip.

"Hastur, bit over dramatic, don't you think?" Crowley's heart pounded, his mind raced on how he could get out of this.

"Please save my mom, mister!" Warlock trembled, clenching at Crowley's jacket. He didn't know what was going on, why the man that smelled like poo hurt his dad and why he was hurting his mom. He wished he were back home. Or why the chauffeur was now holding him.

"Shhhh, " Crowley hushed. "It will be ok, dear heart."

Warlock paused at the endearment the driver had used. Only one person ever called him that. He blinked and looked closely at him, taking in his deep red hair, just like hers, only much shorter. He recognized the sharp, angular nose and the glimmer of yellow eyes hidden behind dark glasses. It couldn't be her, could it? "Nanny?" He whispered softly. "Is that you?"

Crowley nodded imperceptibly, tightening his grip on the boy.

"Where is our Lord, Crowley?" Hastur growled, tightening his grip on Mrs. Dowling, causing her to make a sound of distress. "Where did you hide him?"

"Didn't hide him anywhere. I followed my orders. Drop the kid at the church. Not my fault the nuns gave him to the wrong family." His eyes looked around trying to figure an escape. If he tried to help Warlock's mother, it would put the child in danger. He was running out of time.

"It was your responsibility."

"Yes, and as soon as I realized something was wrong, I investigated the hospital, but SOMEBODY burned down the church archives." Crowley rolled his eyes, making a low sound in his throat.

"Where is the anti-Christ?" Hastur growled, baring his blackened teeth.

Crowley noticed something coming from the other demon's coat. Maggots! He was out of time. "I don't know. He's hidden," He lowered his voice. "Warlock, honey, hold on to me real tight, and close your eyes for me. Okay?"

"'kay."

Crowley shifted his grip on the boy, so that he was holding him with both hands. Once he was certain Warlock was holding tight and had his eyes closed. He looked at the duke of hell with a sneer. "And to be perfectly honest, it's for the best that no one finds him!"

Crowley raised his wings and took off as fast as he could go without hurting his cargo. The last thing he heard as he flew as far away from Megiddo as possible, was Hastur calling his name, and a woman screaming. He tightened his hold on Warlock, one arm cradling the back of his head, the other hand around his torso.

He wasn't sure how long he had flown, but he didn't stop until he was certain he wouldn't be found by the forces of Hell immediately. Once he landed, he hid his wings and let Warlock down on his feet.

"Nanny?" Warlock caught sight of the wings as they vanished from sight, and suddenly a lot of things from his childhood started making sense. He had two questions on his mind, and the first one slipped out before he thought to ask the one he SHOULD have asked. "Are you an angel?"

The question caught Crowley off guard. That was the last thing he had expected to be asked, that was for certain. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly very tired. But then again using his wings on this plane took a great deal of effort. "Nnnn not exactly."

Warlock looked confused. And then very sad. "And where's my mom?" Crowley stopped pacing. "You said that everything would be okay. But that scary guy, he was going to do something, he DID do something... he.... he...."

Tears started flowing from his eyes and suddenly Crowley was reminded that humans, especially human children, can be very emotional. And watching Warlock grow up, the boy was certainly one for waterworks. He grabbed him into a hug, holding him tight. He ran a hand along his back, the same way he did when the child woke from nightmares in tears. He just knelt there holding him, giving him a little time to process what had happened. He hummed the old lullaby he used to sing to him every night, and they just stood there in the middle of a near empty field in Israel. He knew they were pressed for time, but considering what just happened, he let Warlock have at least a few moments.

After a few minutes of that, Crowley pulled away from the boy. “Listen, Warlock, we need to go now. I’m.... sorry about what happened today, but that man, the one you said smelled like poo, he’s going to come after us. We need to go.”

Warlock scrubbed at his eyes, trying to calm down. “Go where, Nanny? What’s going on? What happened to my parents!?”

Crowley noticed that the boy was starting to get upset again, and he had to stop that. Hastur was going to come after him, and because he would never leave Warlock alone in a foreign country, that meant that the boy was now in danger, because of him. He had to think fast, and he had to do something. They were in the middle of Isreal, thousands of miles from London, and the end of the world was coming in less than a day. He looked around and noticed they were in an airport parking lot. Well, might as well make the best of things, and just borrow a car. If the world ends, no one will miss it.

But first he needed to call Aziraphale, to see if he had any ideas on what was going on with the real anti-christ. He pulled out his cellphone and called the bookshop, and got a busy signal. Great. As if he had time for this. He ended the call, and stared at the phone. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He looked at Warlock, the boy was certain to have a cellphone as well.

“Warlock, dear, do you have a phone?”

“Um, yeah. Why, did you need it?”

“Yes.” Warlock handed him the phone. He then dropped both phones on the pavement and stomped on them, ignoring the boy’s shout of protest.

“What did you do that for!” Warlock was no longer sad, now he was angry. Well, that was much more productive than the tears.

“That man, he’s a demon. He can travel through things like mobile phones. He could still track us down, but without something traceable like a phone, it would be harder for him to do. Now, we need to get going. We need to get to Aziraphale’s.”

Warlock got into the car that Crowley pointed to, not sure what was going on, but the day certainly was a strange one. Maybe it was all just a bad dream, and he was back at his bedroom. If it were a dream, it was better the alternative. “Who’s Aziraphale?”

“Oh, ugh, nnng.... You know him as Brother Francis. He has a bookshop in London, and we need his help.”

Brother Francis as well? Did he miss them that much, that he would drum up a bad dream like this? And... If this WAS a dream, why would he need to think up a weird name such as ‘Aziraphale’? “Isn’t London far? How will we get there?”

“Drive there.” Crowley sped up, increasing his speed. “Buckle up, dear.”

Warlock buckled his seat belt, with a little bit of attitude. Crowley was almost proud. Yes, London was more than 3,000 miles from their current location. But, he knew a short cut. He just needed the boy to fall asleep. So he did what he used to do to a small boy, not wanting to go to bed at his bed time. He sung the lullaby he wrote for him. Within minutes, the boy was drowsing, head leaning against the window. He then placed a small miracle on the car he stole, and hoped that the next one he pulled would not bring suspicion of hell on his heels. He would hate to think what would have happened if Hastur were to pop into the car right now. But the next one was going to be a much bigger one, a massive shortcut to get to London, two days ahead of schedule.

His mind raced, wondering what they were going to do... how they would fix everything. He hoped Aziraphale had a plan, the angel was clever. He looked over at his sleeping passenger and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him seeing the boy. He turned onto Brewer, slowing down, just a smidge, as he was almost at his destination, only to find out the road was partially blocked off by police and firefighters. What was going on? He had a bad feeling his day was going to go from bad, to worse.


	2. Chapter 2

“I didn’t ask to be a demon!” 

Warlock was having a very strange day. More strange than how his eleventh birthday party was a few days ago. And it seemed to be getting stranger as it went on, in more ways than one. Shortly after arriving at what WAS a bookshop. (Was, as the building had been on fire. That was a startling sight to wake up to!) Nanny had apparently gone inside. Warlock woke up in time to see her walk out of the burning building, (or was it he? The boy wasn’t entirely sure, but Nanny had been more male shaped than he remembered. Can you do that? That was cool if you could!)

They were currently sitting at a restaurant, Warlock having a cup of hot cocoa while Nanny, or Crowley he had learned he preferred to go by, was drinking alcohol, and a large amount of it. He had watched as Crowley lamented on about how he had fallen from heaven, and thinking back on early in his childhood, that made a lot of sense. From what he could gather, he just hung out with the wrong people. And he’d been there, his whole class had gotten in trouble when the person who facilitated a prank on the teacher wouldn’t fess up. He didn’t like that he had to take part of the detention, when he had nothing to do with it. (The prank was funny nonetheless, but that’s beside the point. If he had done it, he wouldn’t have gotten caught. His nanny taught him better.) 

Warlock honestly did not know what to do a the moment. Part of the reason for being there had to do with the fire in that bookshop. He guessed that Aziraphale/Brother Francis had been lost to the fire, and that made Crowley very sad. Considering how that morning went, sad was a good emotion to have for the day. Even the weather seemed sad.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley stopped mid-rant as he seemed to look, in utter shock, at something in the booth next to the young boy. He didn’t see anything there, but obviously the demon had seen something. “Are you here?”

Warlock watched as a one-sided conversation seemed to be taking place, then he looked down at the book in front of him. It was the only thing taken from the burning bookshop, though it had been slightly burned itself. It was a strange tattered green book titled ‘The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.’ And it was a rather weird book, with numbered passages. There was also loose notes in it and a map of a town called Tadfield with the airbase circled. He couldn’t make sense of a large portion of the notes, the handwriting was very difficult to read.

“Of course i can hear you!” Warlock looked up to see the one-sided conversation that Crowley was having, he wished he could hear the other half. “Oh... oh no, your bookshop isn’t there anymore. I’m really sorry, it burned down.” Warlock wondered if Nanny had been talking to Brother Francis, if that was possible. (And considering everything happening, it very well could have been!) Crowley looked like he was near tears again, like he blamed himself for the fire. “What was the book?” There was a moment of silence before he had shouted “Agnes Nutter! Yes I took it, look! Souvenir!” Crowley snatched the book from in front of Warlock to hold it to the empty space next to him. He then put it in front of him and looked at all the loose papers inside it, studying them. He seemed to have a much easier time reading the handwriting than Warlock had. “Look, wherever you are, we can come to you. Where are you?” More silence, and the boy (although he was still on the fence about that at the moment) focused on his fries and drink. “Yeah, we, I’ve got Warlock here. Long story. Why Tadfield?” Something certainly shifted in the conversation Warlock wasn’t privy to. Crowley wasn’t sad anymore, and he didn’t seem as drunk as he had moments before. The demon made a wince at something the other person had said, and muttered “not going there,” under his breath. “What?” He pulled a face that Warlock had seen many times before when Nanny and Brother Francis had gotten in an argument. “I got that, it was the ‘wiggle on.’” 

Warlock wondered if the other person was Brother Francis. And if it was, did that make Brother Francis/Aziraphale also a demon? No. He thought of the lesson’s that the gardener had taught him. Being kind, even to the smallest pest. Showing him animal families hidden in the woods behind the compound. If Nanny was a demon, Brother Francis had to be an angel. And considering everything else that’s happened.. it all started to make sense. He wondered if he would be able to glean the full story from Crowley later? As it was, it seemed they had another long road trip on hand.

.... 

Warlock hopped in the back seat of the Bentley instead of the passenger seat. At Crowley’s inquiring look, he only shrugged in response. In actuality, he was following a suggestion he had read in the book, one of the predictions had said something about the child named of a witch being safer in the rear of the horseless carriage. And considering some of the predictions had referenced things in Megiddo and even his birthday, he felt it would be a good idea to follow the suggestion. He buckled the seatbelt at Crowley's request.

“It’s probably not the best idea to bring you with me to this... But I don’t know what will happen, and if my hunch is right, Hell will come after me. And there’s only one other place I can hide you, and if anyone comes looking for me... well, I’d feel better having you near me where I can keep an eye on you.” They made their way off to Tadfield.

The trip seemed to be going well, up until they turned onto the on-ramp of the M25. The traffic was at a standstill, and for good reason: The big wall of fire in front of them.

“Dammit.” Crowley muttered under his breath. He seemed to deflate almost, leaning back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “Figures of all times one of my ideas bites me in the arse. That’s how it goes.”

“Ideas?” Warlock was curious, what did he have to do with the motorway?

“The M-25. When it was being built, I changed some things on the design of it. Just a little. Humans didn’t notice the changes I made. They never notice things like that. But I needed to do something to show hell that i was doing my job, so I changed the M-25 to be the dread sigil of Odegra. It means ‘Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds.’ In theory it was a brilliant plan.” Warlock nodded, it sounded like a cool idea. “But now, that there, is blocking the way out of London. We’d be fools to drive through it. Did you see anything in that book about this?”

They sat there for a minute in silence, while thinking about what to do, Warlock flipping through the book. If he were alone, maybe he could find a way to teleport through it. But not with Warlock with him. The boy let out a small sound which snapped Crowley out of his thoughts, and suddenly cold hands pulled his sunglasses off of his face. He looked to his left and saw Hastur sitting next to him, as the demon crushed his glasses in his hands.

“You’ll never escape London. Nothing can.”

“Ah, Hastur. Took you a while to find me. How was Israel?”

“Joke all you like, there’s no where left to run, Crowley.”

Crowley looked forward at the wall of fire, then looked in the rearview mirror making eye contact with him, sending a silent message. Warlock sat back, buckling the seatbelt again, clutching the book close to him. He put the car back in to gear and started driving forward.

“What... what are you doing?” 

Crowley ignored the other demon’s complaints, pulling onto the shoulder to bypass the stopped traffic. Once he was clear he slowly sped up.

“You... you can’t go through that. That’s not hellfire, that’s regular fire!”

And still Crowley increased his speed. Warlock had never seen him more focused, He looked at the fire that was getting closer and closer... He wasn’t sure what the plan was, but... he trusted the red haired demon. He raised him after all, kept his secrets from his parents when necessary. She may have been stern, but... well there was something about how she was, and how he was now. He promised to keep him safe... and he trusted that somehow they’d be okay. 

“You’ll discorporate us both! And what about the boy! You want his death on your hands then!?”

Crowley let out a maniacal laugh. “Maybe, maybe not. The day’s getting better and better. “If we have to go, let's go with style!”

They entered the wall of fire, and the car got very very hot. But the flames never reached them, or rather they never reached Warlock. The demon in the passenger seat however caught on fire, the last thing he shouted was “I hate you!” Before dissolving into ash.

Once they were alone, Warlock stared in shock at the now empty seat. He didn’t move from his spot on the back seat only because he wasn’t sure if he could. The fire outside the windows, that they were traveling through. He had lost count on how many weird things have happened to him today alone. He wanted to ask Crowley what had happened, what they were going to do. The car was shaking, as if it was threatening to fall to pieces, but it still hadn’t. The only thing that stopped him from asking, was that the demon was growling under his breath, telling the car off and demanding it stay together. He seemed to have been focusing terribly hard. If his demon powers were the only thing keeping the car together, Warlock hated to think what would have happened if he was distracted for even a moment.

\---

It wasn’t long though, before they made it out, and Warlock felt it safe to breathe. But even though they were out of the fire... the car was still aflame. Well, something to ask about later.

They made it to the airbase with no further incident, not counting giving a Tadfield resident a heart attack at seeing an flame engulfed car who’s passengers were a snake-eyed adult male and a child in the backseat. (The look on his face was rather priceless!) When they pulled up, Crowley had told him to get out, and bring the book. At the entrance of the gate was an old man and a red-haired woman in a patchwork coat covering her dress.

“Ah, Aziraphale! See you found a ride. Nice dress, suits you!” The demon seemed to have a slight spring in his step.

“Crowley!” The woman may not have LOOKED like Brother Francis, but her voice vaguely sounded like his, if just a little softer.

In the next few minutes several things had happened. The first being that the car exploded. It was a very cool thing to see, not so much Crowley’s reaction. He had fallen to his knees at the sight of the pillar of fire. Warlock felt helpless at what to do, but he was right next to him, and repaid the favor he had done earlier, and laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder as he stared on in shock. The next thing that happened was that Aziraphale had made the guard threatening to shoot them vanish.

Things went on, and they made it to where the real battle had apparently taken place. Four children had taken out four abominations of human imagination, or as Warlock later found out, the four horsemen of the apocalypse. The red haired woman suddenly turned into two people, herself and a blond man in varying shades of tan. The blond man had to have been Aziraphale, and yes, he did look very much like Brother Francis. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He didn’t realize how much he missed both of his old caretakers. And then, everything seemed to get so much more crazy. Two strange people appeared out of nowhere to talk to the boy, Adam Young, who was apparently the real anti-christ that the poo smelling demon was looking for, and then they left. 

And then there was an earthquake. Something was coming, something that terrified Aziraphale and Crowley, made the woman that Crowley had called ‘book-girl’ clutch at her boyfriend. She said something was coming, and whatever it was it was very, very, mad. And then, things changed, Crowley, Aziraphale and Adam had all changed their positions, Crowley’s clothes were clean, and the three of them stared down a nightmare that was crawling out of the earth. Even later, Warlock had difficulty remembering what it looked like, which after everything that happened, was probably for the best.

=====

Warlock was unsure of what to make of the rest of that day. Adam’s dad had taken him and his friends home, The two older people went off on their scooter. Book girl and her boyfriend went off on their own, leaving just Aziraphale, Crowley and Warlock in the middle of the airbase. They borrowed a jeep and took it back to town, to a bus stop. The boy felt very, very tired. 

As they waited for a bus, he was startled when Nanny handed him his phone. Or rather a newer version of his old one. The last thing he expected was to see an incoming call from ‘Mom.’

“You should probably answer that, I’m sure she’s quite worried about you.” Crowley winked at him. 

“Mom?” He did not expect to hear her voice on the other side of the line. He was so sure that.... well... It took everything in him to not cry in relief. With a little bit of coaching from his childhood caretakers, he gave a brief explanation where he was, and what had been going on. His parents were apparently both alive, as was the entirety of the secret service detail. He had so many questions on what had happened, but considering that there was still more to happen, he would have to wait just a little while longer. 

For the time being, Warlock spent the evening at Adam’s. And even though Adam was in trouble with his parents, they seemed to have had no issue with Adam having a friend stay over for the evening, until his mom and dad came to pick him up in a few days. He wondered, looking at the Youngs and knowing what little he did, he wondered if the Youngs were his real biological parents? That would have to be a question for another day. For now, he seemed to be getting along great with Adam, and the Them were great. Better than his friends back home. The time he hung out with them was short as, the next day, his dad’s helicopter showed up to pick him up, not surprisingly not his dad. At least his mother had come along, having been worried sick. He hugged her, glad she was alright, and wondered how things would be going forward?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be the epilogue


	3. Chapter 3

It would be a few weeks before Warlock would get all of the answers he had wanted. A week after everything, he had discovered a new contact in his phone he didn’t recognize. ‘Anthony J Crowley,’ mobile. He had tried calling it when he first noticed the new contact, and though the call was answered in two rings, he had been told to wait for a call back. He always made sure his phone was charged and on him at all times. He did appreciate the upgrade, the new features and better cameras were awesome Once he got that phone call, he arranged a visit to the old bookshop that was no longer burnt down, but back together. Apparently everything had been restored that had been ruined on that day, even Nanny’s car. 

“Warlock, dear boy! It’s so nice to see you!” Aziraphale greeted him with a hug when he entered. “How have you been!”

Warlock smiled and returned the hug Aziraphale gave him with a smile. “H’lo Brother Francis. I’m alright.”

Aziraphale brewed some tea for everyone, and Warlock took a seat next to Crowley on the couch. 

“So, Brother Francis...”

“Actually, it’s Aziraphale” The angel corrected him with a warm smile.

“Sorry.” Warlock gave a sheepish smile while Crowley pat his back. “Are you a demon like Nanny is?”

Crowley suppressed a laugh at the look of indignation on the angel’s face. “Heaven’s no! I’m an angel. Principality, to be exact.”

“Oh, that’s cool. And that makes sense, if Nanny’s a demon, you’d have to have the opposite if I was supposed to be the anti-christ. I’d still like to get a better understanding about that.”

“Oh, yes. Of course!” Aziraphale and Crowley spent the next hour explaining the best that they could about the switch and Warlock had voiced that he had figured that Adam’s parents were his biological ones. But that didn’t matter to him, it was the ones that raised you, much like how Adam yelled at his own biological father.

“So, dear boy, whats been going on with you? How are your parents fairing after their ordeal?” Aziraphale refilled everyone’s drinks.

“Well my parents are getting a divorce. Mom blamed the whole thing on dad, and apparently dad had been doing not so great things in the background."

“That certainly isn’t cool.” Crowley frowned. He knew Thaddeus the third was destined for the pits, he just didn’t know the extent of it. That wasn’t his department.

“Nah, its actually pretty cool. Mom’s moving to her own place in here in London, so I can stay in the same school, I’m actually hoping to go to the same school that Adam and his friends go to, they seem really great.”

“That would be wonderful if it happens!” Aziraphale said cheerfully, clearing away the dishes.

“Well either way, you wont be rid of us that easily.” Crowley gave him a wink. “We’ll always be here if you do need it”

And they had meant it. Warlock’s mom found a nice house outside of Tadfield, close enough that he could still attend the same school as his new friends. And Aziraphale and Crowley made sure to visit them once in a while, just to check up on the whole lot. Warlock was quite glad he turned out to be the wrong boy, because otherwise his life would probably be dreadfully boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to squeeze most of the aspects of my dream into this story, it was fun to write, save for the heart attack I had when my tablet with the majority of this fic lost to a bootlock. Thankfully I didn't have to trash it. Hope you had fun
> 
> I am open to podfics, art, translations and fanfic s of my work. Just please tag me here or on Tumblr, insta, or Twitter!
> 
> I don't always reply to your comments, but I appreciate every one! Feel free to tell me what you liked, it keeps me motivated to write!!!

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more, a few vignettes from the fire on.


End file.
